Too many

I possibly search for an architecture
Of challenge
Create more in my mind
Emotions like PMS, tripping through
A dance of questions
About us

More girly than I am
Drunk off too much you but I’m
Not becoming sick
The next morning I’m not hung over
Just thirstier

Drink sand to keep from
Smothering you
No longer
Gulp down cheap well drinks
Of other men
Never forgetting your taste
And texture

If I had the balls I’d
Tell my mother that you’re
The one

April 15, 03